"Yes. I yelled to the bucket brigade that they'd better use the water on this, instead of throwing it against the sides of the barn, where it wasn't doing any good. So they did, and they kept a good deal of the fire down, so's you'd have a good place to land in." "I owe that to you, Vincent." "And I owe my wet blanket to you, so we're even. But let's get on dry ground." The cow-yard, with the natural wetness that always existed there, to which had been added many gallons of fluid from the bucket brigade, was now a miniature swamp. The boys, followed by an admiring throng, made their way to the front of the barn. All work at attempting to save it had now ceased. Nothing more could be done, and, as all the cattle and horses had been saved, as well as some of the wagons and machinery, it might be said that all that was possible had been accomplished. "Got to let her burn now," said the constable. "How'd it start, Mr. Stimson?" "Tramps must have sot it, I guess. Fust I knowed I woke up, an' see th' blaze. Then I sent my boy Tom out to yell." "Yes, I heard him," replied the constable. "He yelled good and proper. I got right after the bucket brigade." "That's what you did." "Well, the bucket brigade might as well have stayed in bed for all the good it did," remarked Cole Bishop, who had recovered his usual calmness. "You'd ought to had a couple of force-pumps like mine." "Oh, you boys clear out," advised the constable. "First thing you know you'll git hurt." "Huh! I guess if it hadn't been for some of us boys, there'd be a bigger loss than there is," retorted Cole. "That's so," agreed Mr. Stimson. "Bert and Vincent saved me several hundred dollars by getting out them horses." "Any of 'em hurt?" "The bay mare's a little lame, from jumpin', an' the roan gelding is scratched on the fore quarter. But, land! that's nothin'. They'll be all right in a day or two." "Pretty heavy loss, ain't it, neighbor Stimson?" asked Mr. Peter Appelby, who lived next to the man whose barn was now but a mass of glowing embers. "Yes, 'tis, but I got insurance. I'm glad it wasn't the house." "Guess you kin be. Land! but it did go quick! I never see such a fierce fire. I sure thought them two boys would be burned to death," remarked Nate Jackford, another neighbor. "So did I," admitted Mr. Stimson. "It's been a terrible night." "But it might have been worse." "That's so." There was nothing more that could be done. The horses and cows were taken in charge by several neighbors, who agreed to keep them until Mr. Stimson could build a temporary barn. Then, as there was little more to see, for the barn was now completely consumed, the crowd began dispersing. "Lakeville ought to have a fire department," said Bert, as he walked home with his chums. "Yep. They need some force-pumps like mine," agreed Cole. "I got a hose rigged up on it, an' if our house got afire, I could put it out as easy as pie."